


Let My Love Bury Me

by kiboutozetsubou



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: M/M, Soulmate AU, sort of a serial killer au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-17 09:36:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8139268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiboutozetsubou/pseuds/kiboutozetsubou
Summary: Serial killer soulmate AU. Junko has plans for Makoto Naegi, and asks a favor from her righthand man, Izuru Kamukura. Things don't go as expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so i've always really liked the idea of the serial killer soulmate au, so here's what i've come up with. i'm using the term "serial killer" loosely here, but hey, a hitman is technically a serial killer, right?
> 
> sorry i haven't been writing anything. i wanted to want until dr3 despair arc was done to update any of my stuff involving sdr2 characters, but now that it's over i've pretty much decided to disregard it as non-canon anyway, lmaooo. kamukoma lives on.

“Hey, hey, Kamukura-kun!” 

The familiar annoying voice calls out to me as soon as I enter the room. I don’t know why she asked me to meet her at an abandoned school today; our meeting times and places are often sporadic if they don’t happen at any of our organization’s headquarters.

Junko Enoshima is seated on a desk, her legs crossed, twirling her hair with one hand as she grins widely at me. “Hey!” she calls out again. “Did you take good care of Kuwata-kun?” 

I look at her impassively. “He’s dead,” I say simply. Leon Kuwata was the latest target she had given me, only a day prior. I tend to eliminate my targets very quickly. I don’t know why Enoshima decided he needed to die, but I often don’t care to ask.

She laughs, leaning back on the desk. “Great! I knew I could count on you. You’re a lot more competent than my disgusting, ugly sister was, you know? Kamukura-kun—you’re so great—I think I might even be in love!” 

She bats her lashes at me, her voice hitching up a few octaves as she says this. I don’t react, although I do feel a sense of mild disgust. She laughs again once she sees that I don’t respond.

“Hmmm, but no, I’m just kidding! You’re not the one I’m in love with. But I’m _really_ excited today.” She starts swinging her legs back and forth, grinning gleefully. “You want to know why?”

“Why,” I say with no inflection.

“You want to know? Well, look here!” She leans forward again and thrusts her left hand out proudly, the back of it facing me. “Do you see it?” 

I take a few steps forward to see it. On the back of her left hand, in small black lettering, the name “Makoto Naegi” is written clearly. 

I blink, feeling mildly surprised. This was something I didn’t expect.

“You see it, right? Isn’t it awesome?” she gushes, waving her hand around sporadically. “I never thought this would happen again! I was really starting to fall into despair just thinking about it—imagine, never having another soulmate again! It’s been two years, did you know that? Riiiight before you came along, that’s the last time I had a soulmate!”

There were no letters written on the back of her hand when I first met her. When I dug into her background secretly, I found that she had two prior soulmates—her sister Mukuro Ikusaba, and then her best friend Yasuke Matsuda.

They’re both dead now, and although I wasn’t able to find conclusive evidence of this, there is a strong suggestion that she killed both of them.

Enoshima wraps her arms around herself, looking euphoric. “Ah, I remember it so clearly! The pain, the despair—I really missed that feeling. And now I get to experience it for a third time! Can you believe that? I must really be blessed, right, Kamukura-kun?” 

“Why are you telling me this?” is all I say in response, because there are no other questions I care to have answered.

Her arms drop to her sides, and in a second her expression changes, becoming serious. “You know why.” 

I glance at her left hand, resting on the desk. “You want me to bring him to you.” 

“Of course.” Her manic smile stretches over her face again. “You know who Makoto Naegi is, don’t you?” 

I pause for a moment, thinking. “That detective agency?” 

“Right! That pesky one that’s always meddling with my plans. He’s the one that’s running the investigation on me. This is a good way to get two things done at once. We can get him off our tail, _and_  I can have some fun with my soulmate.” 

I don’t want or care to know what she means by that last part. “That makes sense,” I say. “But how do you know the rest of the agency won’t come after you?” 

She points at me. “Because, Kamukura-kun! You’re going to cover your tracks! Even if they do figure out it was me, they won’t find us. They haven’t found us so far, and without Makoto Naegi, they won’t be able to do anything.” 

“Why are you choosing me for this?” I’ve never done a kidnapping mission before. My missions are always to kill. 

“Like I _said_ , I know you’re going to cover your tracks. You’re the best at it. And I don’t trust any of these other idiots to make sure nothing happens to him.” 

“So you don’t want me to hurt him?”

“Well, try not to. I have plans for him.” 

I’m beginning to put together in my mind what exactly her plans are for Makoto Naegi, given what I know about Junko Enoshima. But I won’t dwell on it too much. What she does isn’t any of my concern; I just do my job. 

“I’ll start staking him out tomorrow,” I tell her. “I’ll have him by the end of the week.” This might take longer than my usual job, because he works at a detective agency. And it requires a bit more planning to kidnap someone than to kill them—at least for me.

“You’re the best, Kamukura-kun!” Enoshima cooes. 

I turn to leave the room.

“No goodbye? Hey, Kamukura-kun…” 

“What?” 

I’m still turned away from her, but I can hear the smirk in her voice. “Now that I’ve told you mine, will you ever tell me about _your_  soulmate?” 

Instinctively I flinch and tug my left sleeve down, as though she can see through the glove I’m wearing. I immediately berate myself for having such a reaction when I hear Enoshima cackling behind me. 

“One day I’ll find out!” she sings out, and it sounds like a promise. 

Without replying, I quickly exit the room, listening to her fading laughter as it follows me out.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is KOMAEDA'S POV! 
> 
> i don't really like pov-switching first-person, so i'm sorry if you guys dont like it either but it was necessary for this chapter. all of the chapters after this will probably be izuru's pov, though.

“Komaeda-kun, do you have those files I asked you about?” 

“Of course, Naegi-kun! They’re right here.” I smile widely as I hand two thin files over to my partner.

He takes them from me with his own smile of gratitude and a quick “Thanks,” turning back to his desk. Naegi’s always so polite, but nevertheless whenever he thanks me I can’t help but feel overjoyed. For someone like me to be useful to him—that’s all I can ever hope to achieve.

“Did you hear about Leon Kuwata?” he asks me as he opens one of the files. As I lean over the desk to see what he’s looking at, a redheaded boy’s picture stares up at me.

“His body was found yesterday morning,” I say, looking away from the picture. “But they think he died a few days before that. I haven’t seen the crime scene or the body, so I don’t know anything else.” 

“I haven’t seen it in person, but I’ve looked through pictures,” he tells me. “Nobody’s said anything, but… I think his death might have to do with Junko Enoshima.” 

I can’t suppress the shudder that goes through me. “We haven’t had any leads on her in a while,” I comment. I almost wish it had stayed that way. While I wish we could catch her, I hate having to think about her.

Naegi closes the file and sets it down on his desk, turning to look at me. His brow is pinched together; I can tell he’s uncomfortable thinking about Junko Enoshima, as well. “All of the deaths we’ve attributed to her… none of them have similar MO’s, so it’s always been difficult to tie them to her. But I think one thing that helps _is_  that they’re all different.” 

“Like someone’s trying too hard not to have the crimes link together,” I agree. “That’s the one thing they all have in common—that they don’t have anything in common! Oh, and the fact that they seem totally random.” 

“This one seems random too,” he says. “Everyone’s going on about how they don’t understand who would do this to Leon Kuwata.” 

“Hm…” I tilt my head, considering. “I guess we’ll have to look into it further before we can make a decision. But as always, I trust your judgment, Naegi-kun.” 

“I wouldn’t put blind faith in me,” he says mildly, but with a small smile. “But I appreciate it.” 

“Your hunches have hardly ever been wrong!” I tell him excitedly. “I know it’s been a long time since the investigation on her started, but… I think you’ll definitely catch Junko Enoshima.” 

He goes quiet, looking away from me and down at his desk. I falter, worried I may have said something wrong. Apparently, I tend to do that when I get excited sometimes. 

“Do you think so?” he asks.

“You know I think you can do just about anything, Naegi-kun,” I say. 

He usually blushes when I say things like that, but now he just gives a wry smile. “That’s nice of you to say, Komaeda-kun.”

“Is something wrong?” I ask, frowning.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. 

“I’d like to think you can tell me anything,” I prompt him. “Of course, I understand if you don’t want to tell someone like me…” 

“It’s not that,” he says resolutely. “I’m sorry, I was just thinking. Do you know how I got assigned to investigate Junko Enoshima?” 

“I… I don’t,” I admit. “I came to the organization just after that, I think. No one’s said anything to me about it.”

“I should’ve told you, I’m sorry.” He glances up at me and I’m struck by the sorrowful look on his face. “It was just hard for me to talk about.” 

I can’t help but wonder why he wants to talk about this now—something that he hasn’t told me for two years. 

“I think it’s important for you to know,” Naegi says. He glances around the office, which is empty. “But you should pull up a chair, I feel bad that you’ve been standing!” 

“You don’t need to worry about me, Naegi-kun,” I tell him, but I do as he asks. “So, what’s the big secret?” 

“It’s really not a _secret._  I never meant to keep anything from you, but—well—something happened here right before you came that was really hard for everyone who works here to talk about. It still is for a lot of us.” 

I nod and wait patiently.

“Back then…” Naegi looks away, staring at the wall as though reminiscing. “Junko Enoshima attacked our organization. We didn’t have the security or privacy that we do now; the reason it’s so high now is because this happened. She couldn’t ever do that now, but back then… I guess we were annoying her with our investigation. She…” 

He falters a bit. I want to reach out to him, to comfort him, but I don’t think it’s my place. Instead I offer what I hope is a reassuring smile. 

“She ended up killing a lot of our detectives. One of them was my old partner, which is why we hired you. Another one… was our best detective here, Director Jin Kirigiri’s daughter. She also happened to be my soulmate.” He lets out a small, self-deprecating laugh at this. I see him glance down at his left hand. It’s empty, bereft of any name. I never thought about the possibility that it did have a name there, once.

“Kirigiri-san told me before she died that it was her goal to catch Junko Enoshima,” Naegi continues. “That’s why I took the case. It’s not for revenge or anything like that… I know she wouldn’t want me to live my life that way. I just want to carry on her dream. Maybe that sounds stupid, but it’s like my way of keeping her alive, somehow.” 

“Naegi-kun…” I trail off, unsure of what to say. A tumultuous wave of emotions is swirling inside of me as I listen to his story. Anger with Junko Enoshima, furious anger that ignites my already-existing hatred of her—but also sorrow for his loss, and also a strange sense of near-delirious happiness. I really do feel terrible for what Naegi went through, and I hate the despair that Junko Enoshima caused. But Naegi didn’t give in to that despair. He carried on, with the love and hope of his soulmate alongside of him. 

And of course, I’m happy that he decided he was close enough to me to tell me this, as well. 

“I’m sorry, Naegi-kun,” I manage to say. “But I appreciate that you told me this. I promise we’ll catch her. I’ll do anything in my power to make that happen, for you and Kirigiri-san.” 

Naegi smiles at me, probably the first genuine smile he’s given me during this morbid conversation. The way his face lights up when he smiles always fills me with such hope. Just from looking at him smile I get the sense that everything will be okay. 

I smile back at him. “Do you want lunch? I can go get us something.” 

“Oh, I guess if you don’t mind. I’m pretty hungry.” 

“Not at all!” I bounce up, turning to leave his office. 

“Komaeda-kun,” he calls after me, and I stop. “Thanks for listening.” 

My smile turns into a full beaming grin. “No problem, Naegi-kun! We’re partners, after all.” 

As I leave I can’t wipe the grin off my face. I meant every word I said to him. I’ve always admired Makoto Naegi—his bravery, his optimism, his cleverness. He may not be the most talented detective I’ve ever met, but the shining hope radiating from him makes up for all of that tenfold. I’ll do anything to help that hope beat Junko Enoshima’s despair. 

And to that end, I’ll protect that hope with my life. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to upload chapters 3 and 4 together, hence the wait. sorry about that!
> 
> oh, and i'm sorry about the POV change in the last chapter - i felt it was necessary - but this one is back to izuru's POV and it will (most likely) stay that way for the rest of the fic.
> 
> this chapter is kind of bleh, just one of those necessary bridge ones to get to the juicier stuff. oh well.

Hope’s Peak Detective Agency is really a detective agency in name only; it’s more of a large-scale crime-fighting organization. It deals with highly sensitive and classified material, so while it looks unassuming from the outside, it’s incredibly well-guarded and secretive.

This makes my job much more difficult than usual. In fact, I underestimated how difficult it would be to collect any information about the detectives that work there at all. I know Makoto Naegi by name, but nothing else. All I know is that he is heading the investigation on Enoshima. I know a few other names—Byakuya Togami, Aoi Asahina—but this is actually the extent of my knowledge. 

I’m normally very good at my job, and I have to admit it is mildly frustrating that I can’t seem to find any more information than this. I’m beginning to understand why, even though the organization is an annoyance most of the time, I’ve never been assigned to assassinate anyone in it. 

Enoshima must really be excited about her new soulmate to make me do this. How am I supposed to kidnap someone if I don’t even know what they look like? 

Of course, I know that I can still do it. But I will have to be more creative than usual. 

Which is why I find myself tailing a car that I see heading away from the detective agency. 

I don’t try very hard to be inconspicuous. With my plan, it doesn’t really matter.

The car stops at a popular takeout place in the closest town. It’s lunchtime, so this is unsurprising. The car door opens, and the young man who steps out has a ball of thick white hair on top of his head, making him quite distinct. I recognize him from the time I spent staking out the agency. I’ve seen people go in and out of the building from a distance, but of course I did not know which of these people, if any, was Makoto Naegi. 

The white-haired man enters the restaurant. I park my car—a standard inconspicuous model, rented to me through my connections with Enoshima, nothing special because I tend to change cars very often—and get out to follow him.

I’ve never done this for a mission before, but today I’m wearing what one may call a disguise. I’ve tied my hair up and put on glasses, and changed my normal attire something more casual and bookish. I feel slightly irritated in the outfit; there probably isn’t much point to a disguise, very few people know of my existence, let alone my appearance. But I shouldn’t underestimate these detectives. 

I force my default expression from its usual apathy and put on a smile as I walk into the restaurant. I’ve been told that my normal personality can be somewhat frightening and off-putting, and I don’t want to rouse any suspicion. 

I approach the white-haired detective after he orders, while he’s waiting for his food. He’s wearing a suit and tie, not unlike my usual outfit, with long-sleeved coat that’s a bit too big for his thin frame. He looks friendly and open, but I don’t doubt there’s a gun hidden in his coat somewhere, so his bright smile does nothing to bring my guard down. 

He flashes that bright smile at me when I stop beside him and say “Excuse me,” in what I hope is an amiable tone. His eyes glance up and down my figure in a way that most people might brush off; I don’t doubt that he’s sizing me up. 

“Oh! Hello there,” he says cordially. “Are you the one who followed me here?” 

His smile never wavers. I don’t flinch at his accusation; I was expecting it. I would be a bit disappointed if he wasn’t competent enough to notice me following him.

But for show, I try to school my expression into one of surprise and shame. “You noticed that?” 

“It’s probably just _luck_  that I did, really,” he says with a wave of his hand. “You must know where I work if you followed me here, but I have to warn you I’m really not very competent.” 

Despite his self-deprecating words, he watches me carefully, and his smile turns sharp. 

“I’m sorry,” I say morosely. “Of course you would’ve noticed something like that. But it’s the only way I could think to find one of you.” 

He glances down at the notepad I’m carrying. Takes in my slightly tousled, academic appearance. “Are you a journalist?” 

I fake a surprised laugh. “You’re pretty good. I work for the Towa City Inquirer, and I’m trying to work on a piece about the Hope’s Peak Detective Agency.” At his raised eyebrows, I continue hastily. “I know it’s ambitious, but I really admire what you’ve all been doing. Especially your efforts to stop Fenrir.” 

Fenrir is the local chapter of Enoshima’s criminal organization. Much of the public doesn’t know about it, and those that do don’t actually realize that it is connected to Enoshima at all. Enoshima has spent a lot of resources diverting attention from herself. The newspaper I mentioned was one of many insidiously controlled by her following in order to cover up the truth about her activities. 

The detective’s eyes go wide when I mention this. He lowers his voice when he says, “You know about that? That’s impressive.” 

“I’ve been trying to gather as much information as I can,” I admit sheepishly. “Which isn’t a lot. The only thing I know is that there’s a detective named Makoto Naegi who’s involved in the Fenrir investigation. I was really hoping I could speak to him, but I can’t find any way for that to happen…” 

I try my best to look appropriately dismayed about this. I’ve never had to display any acting talents in my profession before, but I’m confident that I can do _most_  things well, and this shouldn’t be an exception. 

The detective looks even more startled when I mention this. After a moment, a wide grin spreads across his face and he laughs softly. “Ah, that’s a happy coincidence! I don’t think it’ll do much harm to let you know that I am Makoto Naegi.” He sticks out his right hand to me. “Nice to meet you…” 

He trails off, waiting for a name. I don’t give it to him, or shake his hand, immediately, because I’m stunned into immobile silence by this revelation. Could it really be possible that the person I picked at random to follow here happened to be Makoto Naegi? Then again, I’ve always managed to get lucky when it comes to situations like this on missions. And I don’t see any reason for him to lie. 

Snapping back into action, I shake his hand vehemently. “Yasuke Matsuda,” I blurt out, because I don’t want to use my real name just in case, and it’s the first name that comes to mind. “Is that true? You’re really Makoto Naegi? Do you think…would you be able to answer a few questions for me?”

His order number is called and he collects the food. “You seem very nice, Matsuda-kun,” he says. “I don’t really know how much I’m allowed to tell you, but I can definitely try to answer your questions as well as I can!” He glances down at the bag in his hands. “Oh, but I _do_  have to bring lunch back to the agency.”

“That’s okay,” I assure him hurriedly. “It won’t take long, I promise.” I make a show of looking around the crowded restaurant. “Maybe we can go somewhere else, though? Somewhere quieter? I know the information’s pretty confidential.” 

He seems to mull it over for a moment, before nodding. “Sure, as long as it doesn’t take too long. There’s a coffee place a few minutes away, if you don’t mind driving with me.” 

I don’t really feel emotions such as happiness, but this feeling comes close to it. I’m really experiencing a stroke of luck today, that a Hope’s Peak detective is so easily agreeing to be alone in a car with a complete stranger. Perhaps I gave him too much credit earlier. 

Still, I shouldn’t let my guard down. He seemed to be suspicious earlier. It’s possible that he completely believes my story, but it’s always possible that he doesn’t, as well. Maybe he’s only agreeing to such a foolish idea because he’s that confident in himself. 

Whatever the reason, there’s no chance that I’m going to pass up this opportunity. Things are going much better than I expected. The only way this could get easier is if _I_  were to drive instead, but I don’t want to push my luck and trigger any more suspicion by asking if I can do that. 

I hesitate for just a moment before accepting, as though I’m concerned with my _own_  safety. “That sounds good. I really can’t thank you enough for agreeing to do this, Naegi-kun.” 

“It’s no trouble, Matsuda-kun,” he says with a smile. 

I follow him to his car. It’s a nice car—the newest model in its line, sleek and white. These detectives get paid a handsome salary for their work. I do, too, but I can’t parade it around in the same way.

The car really is nice. It’s a shame I’m going to have to dispose of it. 

Regardless, my plan is working out better than expected. I had assumed he would schedule the interview for another day, and I would have had to discreetly follow him home and kidnap him in the middle of the night—it’s much easier and less time-consuming this way.

It’s still annoying, either way. Enoshima had better be paying me well for this.

When Naegi pulls out of his parking spot and drives down the street, I can’t help but notice he’s only using his right hand to drive, to the point where it even looks uncomfortable. Is he going to such lengths to be sure I don’t see the name on his left hand? He’s already wearing gloves, it’s not as though I can see through them. 

I make a mental note to check it later. It doesn’t really matter who his soulmate is—Enoshima would probably be thrilled if she was his soulmate, but it’s not a requirement—but the fact that he’s so overly cautious about it has piqued my curiosity. 

“So, how long have you been working for the Towa City Inquirer?” he asks me casually, attempting to make small talk as we drive.

I glance outside of the car windows, assessing our surroundings. Then, instead of an answer, I pull a gun out of my coat pocket and press it to his temple in one fluid motion. 

“Oh,” he says simply. 

“Make a left turn here,” I command him, my voice back to its usual monotonous tone. He doesn’t sound frightened in the least. On the contrary, he’s still smiling. It irritates and worries me—does he still think he has the upper hand? Is there something I don’t know? 

He does as I tell him without protest, his eyes never wavering from the road as he continues to follow the directions I give him. I’m taking him to one of the warehouses in town that is occasionally used for Enoshima’s operations. I’ll be able to hide out there until I figure out the next step of my plan. 

The car pulls around back, an area obscured by trees and brush. Naegi turns the car off and looks over at me, that infernal smile still plastered onto his face. 

“I take it you’re not really a journalist,” he says, sounding almost amused. 

Does he not realize the situation he’s in? I press the muzzle of the gun harder against his temple to emphasize this fact. “No, I’m not.” 

“Are you going to kill me?” 

If only it were that easy. I don’t deign to reply, but I do lower the gun. Before he can react to that, my hand darts out and presses hard into a pressure point on his neck. He makes a soft noise of surprise before slumping over, unconscious. 

I sigh, the tension leaving my body. I can work normally now without his smile to unnerve me. 

Everything has gone well so far, I think as I pull out my phone. So why do I still feel such unease? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you may notice that the character izuru calls "naegi" in the narration is ... well, not in fact naegi, lol. this is the primary reason why i wanted this fic to be in first-person. at least this way, i can avoid using the obviously-wrong name as much as possible because i can say "he" instead. if it was third-person, that'd be much harder because it would be confused with izuru too... sorry, i'm rambling.
> 
> anyway, i'm sorry for how odd it sounds to be calling komaeda "naegi," lol. but it's necessary.


	4. Chapter 4

I have to make a few calls to clean up my tracks. Dispose of the agency’s car, as well as my own rental parked back at the restaurant, and acquire a new car. Then I drove further away, to another safehouse a few towns over. Luckily, working for Enoshima gives me all the contacts necessary to make this happen without any extra effort on my part. 

It’s still a lot more annoying than it would be if I was on another assassination mission. I’d still have to cover my tracks, but I wouldn’t have to worry about lugging an unconscious person along with me.

Naegi looks almost peaceful in his sleep the entire time. When we arrive at the second safehouse, I lay him down on the floor and make a cursory search through his jacket. Contrary to my expectations, he isn’t carrying a gun, but then again he does seem to be more of a real detective than a field agent. He also isn’t carrying much of anything else. There’sa wallet with money in it, of course, and a simple ring for his car keys, but there’s no ID, nor any other form of potentially identifying information. This isn’t entirely surprising, considering how difficult it’s been for me to get any information on the Detective Agency.

Finding nothing worthwhile, I abandon my search—taking his wallet and keys—and the next thing I do is quickly shuck off what I can of my rudimentary disguise. I feel much better with my free-flowing hair and without the glasses, but I can’t change back into my suit just yet. 

Having accomplished that to the best of my ability for now, I turn my attention back to Naegi and search for something to tie him up with. 

I come back with a rope and look down at him. He seems perfectly harmless, his white hair splayed out along the floor and his arms hanging limply at his sides. There doesn’t appear to be any reason for my earlier unease. 

Suddenly I remember his suspicious attempts to hide his left hand from me in the car. Out of curiosity, and because I can, I bend down to pull the glove off his left hand and inspect it. 

What I find is—nothing.

It’s not that there’s no name written on his left hand. It’s that he doesn’t even _have_  a left hand. The glove was obscuring only a scarred stump where a hand once was. 

It seems bizarre to me that I didn’t notice this before. But it doesn’t matter. It does make him more difficult to tie up, though.

Instead of just tying his hands as per my original plan, I hoist him into sitting position and tie the rope expertly around his torso, binding his arms behind his back. Once I’m satisfied with that, I tie his ankles together. 

I decide to forgo a gag, though, because there isn’t anyone around here to hear him scream anyway, if he does do that. And if there _was_  someone around, this is Enoshima’s territory, so no one would be inclined to help.

He doesn’t wake up as I tie him, but I _am_  being careful not to wake him up. I don’t exactly feel like having to deal with him once he’s awake. 

When I’m done, I pull out my phone again. I don’t want to, but I’ll have to call Enoshima now to check in and ask her where I should drop him off. I always dread my conversations with her, but it’s either call her or sit here staring at my unconscious captive, which will get very boring very quickly. 

The phone barely rings once before Enoshima picks up with a loud “Kamukura-kun!” that almost makes me wince. 

“Do you have Naegi-kun?” she asks loudly before I can say a word. “It’s about time, you took long enough, you know? Man, I was really getting impatient.” 

“Their security was tighter than I expected,” I respond mildly. “But I have him now.” 

I can hear the grin in her voice when she responds. “Oooh, you do, you do? Can I talk to him? I want to _see_  him, is he cute? Is he pretty? What’s he like? I’m blushing just thinking about him, it must really be true love!”

“He’s unconscious,” I tell her dispassionately. My eyes rove over the body laid out in front of me. Objectively speaking, he _is_  pretty, with long lashes and a smooth, angular face. But there’s no way I’ll disclose this to her. 

“That’s not a very good description, Kamukura-kun,” Enoshima pouts. “Can you at least tell me one little thing? Am I his soulmate, too?”

“No.” This may not even be true, but I don’t feel like having to explain. 

Enoshima is silent for a few moments on the phone. Then, “Ahhh, you’re so _cold_ , Kamukura-kun! I feel such amazing despair, I’m practically shaking!” 

I should have known she’d be happy with this knowledge. It doesn’t stop me from feeling vaguely disgusted. I can only imagine what perverted expression she’s making right now. 

“Unrequited love is a kind of despair I’ve never felt before,” she says, sounding ecstatic. “I wonder, does he have another soulmate instead of me? No, don’t tell me, I want it to be a surprise.” 

I can only imagine what fate would befall someone if they _were_  Naegi’s soulmate. Assuming he even has one. It’s impossible to tell, without his left hand. 

“Where do you want to meet to collect him?” I ask when there’s a lull in her delusional rambling. 

“Oh, that’s right.” I can hear her humming thoughtfully into the phone. “You’re gonna have to keep him for a few days before we can meet.” 

I clench my jaw. “Why.”

“Don’t be like that, it’s your fault for taking so long!” Enoshima sighs dramatically. “Believe me, I want to see him, but I couldn’t just sit around waiting for you. I’m doing some business out of the country right now.” 

“Out of the country,” I echo, incredulously. “You knew I would be done with this mission by the end of the week.” 

“Hey, duty calls! I’m a busy gal, Kamukura-kun. What, do you think despair just spreads all on its own? I _wish_.” 

Not for the first time, I think that I don’t get paid enough to deal with this. It’s a testament to Enoshima’s unbearable personality that she manages to make even _me_  angry. 

“Of course,” I say dryly. “Just a few days, then.” 

“A few days, I promise. Oh, and you’d better not kill him before I get back.” 

With the last sentence, her voice drops, abruptly losing its friendly tone. It’s a threat. Enoshima has never threatened me before; I’m too useful to risk alienating. This soulmate of hers must be extremely important to her. 

“Hurry up, then,” I bite back, and then hang up before she can respond. 

A few days. I sigh as I pocket my phone, still staring down at Naegi’s sleeping form. At the very least, I can hope that it won’t be boring. But almost everything is. 

We should be able to hide out here for at least another day. I don’t want to underestimate the Detective Agency, though, especially when one of their best detectives has gone missing. Likely they’re already out looking everywhere for him. 

But Enoshima’s organization has always been one step ahead of them. They haven’t found out about this warehouse by now, so the odds that they will now is slim to none. And if worst comes to worst, there are safeguards to help warn me if anyone’s coming. Enoshima has many faithful followers. 

As I think through my options, Naegi begins to stir. 

His eyes blink open slowly. Reflexively he tries to move his limbs, straining against the rope. As he realized he’s tied up he jolts, suddenly wide awake. I watch distantly as he tugs at his restraints, his gaze darting around the room.

When he sees me, he visibly relaxes. I raise my eyebrows at this; that’s the exact opposite reaction that most people have upon seeing me.

“Oh, hello,” he breathes out, his voice raspy. “You didn’t kill me after all.” 

I remember that in the car, he wasn’t afraid of me. He doesn’t look afraid now, either. 

It’s still unnerving. But also intriguing. None of my victims have ever behaved in this way.

“Why aren’t you afraid?” I ask. 

He smiles. “I guess I really should be, right?” I don’t answer, so he continues, unperturbed. “Honestly, I don’t see much of a point. Whether you kill me or not, that’s entirely out of my hands. Being afraid won’t change that.” 

He’s technically right, but fear isn’t logical. I know that better than most people. I’ve seen the ways fear and despair twist the minds of rational beings. Enoshima lives for that. Maybe it’s fitting that her soulmate doesn’t care for it. 

“Are you not afraid because you think I won’t kill you?” I wonder aloud. 

“No, I promise it’s not that. I think you’re perfectly capable of killing me!” He says it like he’s trying to assuage some insecurity. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter much either way. I’m curious, though, as to why you kidnapped me in the first place.” 

I feel strange having this conversation with him, so I don’t reply. I cast a glare at him, the kind that usually stops people in their tracks. He doesn’t look bothered by it, smiling pleasantly, his head cocked to the side in interest. 

“Oh, are you not going to answer me?” he says eventually. “That’s disappointing.” 

He’s certainly fitting to be Enoshima’s soulmate, I muse. 

“You’re a Hope’s Peak detective,” I say. “You can figure it out.” 

He laughs softly. “Alright then. Give me a minute to think, I still feel a little groggy.” 

I stare at him silently. His head tips to the side thoughtfully as he surveys the room, and then me. He makes a quiet “Hmm” sound, shifting in the ropes. 

“You work for Junko Enoshima.” It’s a statement, not a question. “She must want me for something… if it was just because I’m working on her case, you would've killed me already. And if it was for information, you’d be torturing me.” 

I quirk an eyebrow. “Who says I’m not going to torture you?” 

“Just a guess. Ah, please correct me if I’m wrong, though. I’m not much of a detective.” 

I don’t respond. I wonder why he assumed I wasn’t going to torture him. I’m not going to, but why does he think that? Do I not look threatening enough?

He squirms a bit more in the ropes, but it doesn’t look like he’s trying to get out of them. “Let’s see… it feels like my left glove has been taken off. That means you checked my hand, but why would you need to know what was on there?” 

I glance at the discarded glove lying on the ground behind him. I don’t know why I didn’t put it back on again, but it doesn’t really matter.

“It seems strange to be curious about who my soulmate is,” he ponders aloud. “Unless that’s relevant to this situation. So I have a _guess_ , admittedly, as to why you’ve kidnapped me. But I’m hoping it’s not the case.” 

It seems he’s figured it out after all. I’m impressed, but my expression gives nothing away. I don’t know how he came to this conclusion with so few clues, but I’m not worried that he knows what’s going on; it won’t hurt anything, and somehow I doubt he’ll be around to tell anyone, after all this is over. 

“Tell me what you think,” I say. “I’ll tell you if you’re right.” 

“That’s nice of you,” he says amiably. “My guess is that Junko Enoshima wants me because I am her soulmate.” He visibly shudders as he says the words. “I hope I’m wrong.” 

“You’re right.” 

His ever-present smile drops as he makes a disgusted face. “I wouldn’t mind if it really _was_  just to torture me for information. The thought of being connected to her in such a way makes me feel sick.” 

I can’t say I don’t sympathize. 

“You sound as though you know her personally.” 

“Thankfully, no. But I know enough about her to hate her.” He fixes his gaze on me, narrowing his eyes as though he’s thinking hard about something. “Why are you working for her?” 

“Money,” I lie easily. Just because there’s no harm in divulging information to him doesn’t mean I want to. “Why do you hate her?” 

This time when he laughs, it sounds cold and mirthless. “She represents everything that I hate. If you help her, I might have to hate you, too.” 

“Go ahead,” I tell him flatly. “It makes no difference to me.” 

He stays quiet for a few moments. I contemplate walking away when he speaks up again. “It seems unfair that you know my name but I don’t know yours. I assume Matsuda isn’t it.” 

I’m pleasantly surprised to hear that he presumably doesn’t know who I am. It wasn’t really even necessary to give the fake name, then. 

The black ink on my left hand feels heavy. Names have power, intimacy. In some ways, for someone like me— one of the (un)lucky ones with a name on their hand— there is a very real sense that one’s name is not their own. Not fully.

In such a world, I have a strong reluctance to give my name. 

“It’s not,” I answer him, and then I turn to walk away. 

I can let him out of my sight for a little while. I’m confident in my knot-tying abilities, and I’m certainly not going to stick by his side for this entire trip. 

He says nothing as I walk away, although I’m sure he’s disappointed. He likely has many more questions to ask, but I’m in no mood to give them. I don’t even know why I indulged him for as long as I did. 

Boredom, I suppose. 

I think over my current circumstances again as I wrench a door open and step outside. The sun is beginning to set and the cold air bites at my skin, but it’s a refreshing feeling. 

A few more days with him, and then I can hand him over to Enoshima and my life will resume normally. 

I’m still irritated with her, but perhaps not as much as I should be. It’s annoying, and I’ve never carried out a mission like this before. But I know I can do it.

And at the very least, it will give me something to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys might be thinking that izuru shows more of a range of emotions in this fic than usual and that's kind of ooc, but in this fic he's not an artificially made person, so he HAS emotions. it's interesting to deal with an izuru like that, who definitely has and can express emotion like everyone else, but very often doesn't for whatever reason. 
> 
> well, maybe we'll get to learn more about him later.


End file.
